


I can't extinguish this fire, though I've tried

by aprettyaway



Category: Inception
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprettyaway/pseuds/aprettyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur is domestic, there is a series of unfortunate events, and firefighter Eames is called upon to save the day. Idea shamelessly taken from Modern Family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't extinguish this fire, though I've tried

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know quite how this happened... also, it started out funny, but really isn't. Sorry.

Arthur moves into the Cobbs' house partially because, being a retired professional art thief, his days tend to get boring if he's not planning an intricate heist in Europe with several potential buyers. Therefore, he's perfectly content to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and clean up after finger painting escapades, just to fill the hours. It's also partially because he really does love Jamie and Pippa rather ridiculously, at least for a man that is awkward around children.

Mostly, though, it's because Mal has died and Dom can barely take care of himself and most certainly isn't capable of taking care of two children.

So Arthur moves in, essentially abandoning his social life to take care of two kids like a homemaker while Dom disappears (usually resulting in gambling debts, a hangover, or the procurement of stolen goods) at random intervals. Marie is around, of course, to lend him a hand, but more often than not she's off playing bridge or taking long walks. So Arthur wakes up at six every day (not that he gets a full night's sleep, Phillipa has nightmares), makes three meals a day, and entertains the kids in-between. He's gotten quite good at soccer, and has taught them both how to swim besides.

"You know, Arthur, you should get out more," Ariadne tells him whenever they go grocery shopping together or walk Ariadne's little pug Otis together.

"Mhmm," Arthur says noncommittally every time, because although Ariadne is a dear and a wonderful neighbor who is always willing to give him eggs and bake cookies with Phillipa, she just moved in to help her ailing grandmother and really doesn't know the whole story.

"I could babysit sometime, if you'd like," she offers. "I know Dom works a lot."

"I appreciate the offer," Arthur says, even though they both know he won't take her up on it. Ariadne is taking graduate classes when she isn't taking care of her grandmother and has a social life besides. And anyways, it wouldn't be fair to hand off Phillipa and James to her when James still has separation anxiety and Phillipa doesn't sleep through the nights.

She gives him a sad little smile.

So Arthur's summer is spent caring for two children with a dead mother and absent father while doing a little research on the side for old friends. He doesn't need the money, so he puts it in private accounts for the kids, because their private school tuition isn't exactly cheap. Arthur takes on his domestic duties without any fanfare and calmly hacks into Dom's phone and laptop daily to make sure he can be on top of whatever trouble he's getting himself into.

Then fall comes.

Mal died in the spring, at which point Marie moved in with Dom. Arthur only moved in just as school was getting out, when it became clear she couldn't handle taking care of Dom and two young children by herself.

Now school is back in session, with Phillipa in kindergarten all day and James having pre-school three mornings a week, and Arthur doesn't know what to do with his time.

Naturally, he starts in on house projects.

Over the summer the house was largely left unkempt, except for basic clutter control and the scrubbing and sweeping the hired cleaning lady did once every two weeks. Now, however, Arthur is starting to realize the leaking kitchen faucet, the weedy garden, the overgrown grass, the piano that needs to be tuned, the wobbly kitchen table, and the old, outdated fire alarms that don't have carbon monoxide detectors.

Arthur doesn't like gardening, so he hires people to do that (art theft is a highly lucrative business), and he also hires those same people to mow the lawn (he figures he's contributing enough by turning on the sprinkler system every morning). And he doesn't know how to fix a sink, so he leaves that to a plumber. The piano and kitchen table are both handled by Marie, who insists because apparently Arthur "has been doing far too much already".

He thinks he can probably manage going out to buy fire alarms, though, so he goes to Home Depot one day (that always was his least favorite place as a child) and buys the fire and carbon monoxide alarms that the man helping him assures is just what he needs.

At this point, Dom is away – Arthur has it from reliable sources that he is planning to rob the nearby Bank of America branch, which is just fucking fantastic – and Marie has gone to Florida to visit an old friend for a couple of weeks. So one day Arthur spends his morning while James is at preschool replacing the fire alarms.

Arthur doesn't struggle with the fire alarms, in fact he manages to get all of them set up with time enough to shower and go grocery shopping before picking up James. Feeling rather proud of himself, Arthur goes to take his shower.

He's just finishing washing his hair when the fire alarm goes off.

 _Well, that's soon,_ he thinks dryly, scrambling to finish showering.

Dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist, Arthur pulls a chair from Phillipa's room under the fire alarm nearest the bathroom and climbs atop it, ears cringing at the shrill noise being emitted from the device. Scowling, Arthur yanks the fire alarm out of the ceiling rather forcibly. As soon as the alarm is disconnected, the piercing noise stops.

Arthur's done showering – not that he could be paid to steam up the place again and possibly set off another alarm – so he's just about to find some clothes to wear when the doorbell rings. Figuring it's probably Ariadne, checking to make sure he's alright, he makes sure his towel is securely fastened and makes his way down the stairs.

It's not Ariadne. In fact, it's two fully decked-out firefighters, looking ready to bat the door down.

"Er," Arthur says, staring. There's a puddle of water gathering at his feet.

"You alright, darling?" the first fireman asks, giving Arthur a very obvious once-over. He has a British accent and is ridiculously attractive in a manly, muscular-with-stubble sort of way. Arthur's knees probably would go weak except he's too busy blushing and being horrified because he's in nothing but a towel.

"My apologies, sir, but your next door neighbor called saying she heard a fire alarm go off and thought it was this residence," the man next to him says, much more professionally.

"Oh, yes, that was me," Arthur stumbles. "But there was no need to call 911. It was just because the fire alarms are new and the steam from the shower set them off."

"Well, that's a relief, but unfortunately we still have to check the house. You know, to make sure there isn't a fire," the first fireman says, smiling charmingly. Arthur _really_ wishes he didn't have the accent. "I'm Eames, by the way, and this is Yusuf. And you are?"

"This really isn't necessary," Arthur starts.

"Eames is actually right," the Yusuf explains apologetically. Even as he's speaking, another fire truck pulls up in front of the house, sirens on, followed by two flashing police cars. All of the housewives on the street are peeking out their windows. Arthur feels like a strange combination between Mrs. Doubtfire and Danny Ocean. And Yusuf is still talking. "It's protocol. We can also take a look at your fire alarms and make sure they're set up properly, if you like."

Arthur stares helplessly at Yusuf, and then at the fire trucks and police cars lined up outside the house, and lastly at Eames, who is giving him a look that a Harlequin romance novel would probably describe as "smoldering".

"It should just take a moment, darling," Eames assures Arthur soothingly, which is nice until he tries to rest a "supportive" hand on Arthur's bare shoulder.

Arthur jerks back and says, "Alright, alright, just take a look around downstairs first, I need to go change."

Arthur turns to go upstairs and change, uncomfortably aware of Eames' eyes on him (or, more appropriately, on his ass) as he walks away. He tries in vain to pretend it doesn't make his dick twitch. He changes into sweatpants and a t-shirt and allows Eames, Yusuf, and a multitude of other firefighters to search the upstairs. Once they determine that there is, in fact, no fire, they send the rest of the firefighters and police personnel away.

Eames and Yusuf remain, however, to supposedly double-check the fire alarms.

"This is a lovely home you've got here," Eames says conversationally. He's abandoned his uniform and is now just in black pants and a tight white shirt that leaves very little to the imagination. Arthur gulps as he tries not to stare at Eames' arms. He has fucking tattoos.

"Er, thanks?"

"You never did say your name, you know," Eames says, stepping up onto a chair and squinting up at the fire alarm above him. Unwillingly, Arthur's eyes go to his thighs.

"Um, it's Arthur, Arthur Beauregard," he stumbles indelicately.

Arthur swears he hears Eames mutter, "You certainly are."

"So, what do you do for a living," Eames continues in a normal voice.

"I'm a freelance art appraiser and curator," Arthur says.

Eames steps fiddles with the fire alarm for a moment then steps off the chair incredibly close to Arthur, so they are only inches apart. "I'm afraid I have no idea what that means."

Arthur clears his throat uncomfortably and steps back, saying, "Basically, I'm hired by art collectors to fix their art or make sure they aren't getting conned." It's such a well-oiled lie at this point that Arthur doesn't even hesitate. "The last fire alarm is the one I yanked out of the ceiling."

"Lead the way, then," Eames says grandly.

"Right," Arthur says. He takes Eames into his bedroom (the larger of the guest bedrooms), and watches as Eames takes a very obvious look around. Out of habit, Arthur retrieves his phone from the bathroom and checks for messages. There are two, one from Nash asking if Arthur's apart of Dom's bank robbing team and another from Saito asking if he knew that Dom Cobb was about to rob a bank.

Arthur rubs his eyes and texts Nash first. _Yes, and all the positions are filled so we don't need you anymore._

 _Fuck you,_ is Nash's almost-immediate reply.

"Sorry, I have to return a call," Arthur tells Eames, who has taken Arthur's desk chair and is now fiddling away with the fire alarm.

"No problem, pet."

Arthur calls Saito, who technically is not a thief, he just employs them regularly.

"Saito," the smooth voice answers on the first ring.

"It's Arthur. How did you find out?"

"I like to keep track of my investments."

"Right, well, if you know does that mean everyone knows? Because I was kind of hoping I could keep his train wreck of a live on the down low, if you know what I mean," Arthur says. He's fairly certain that Eames is done with the fire alarm and is just stalling for time now, listening in on his conversation.

There is a noticeable pause. "Subtlety is not Dom Cobb's strong suit."

Arthur sighs. "I have to go. Thanks for the heads up, I guess."

"I might have a job coming up. I'll contact you." Saito hangs up before Arthur can reject the offer.

Feeling even more down, Arthur pockets his phone and asks Eames, "You done yet?"

"Just finished, love," Eames says, stepping down off Arthur's desk chair. "You have a lovely house."

"Er, thank you," he says.

"All the alarms should work," Eames adds as they head back downstairs. Arthur nods. His phone starts vibrating, but he ignores the call. Eames chuckles. "Well, aren't you very busy. Lots of paintings to inspect?"

"Something like that. Thanks for the help," he says awkwardly, tactfully not pointing out that he didn't want the help to begin with.

"Just doing my job. Are you new around town?"

Arthur can sense the conversation is going in an awkward direction, but he has no choice but to answer, "Sort of."

"Well, maybe I'll see you around," Eames says, and that suggestive tone is back in his voice and body language. Arthur feels his entire heat up and hates himself.

"Probably not," he replies, but his blush completely nullifies his words, if Eames' grin is anything to go by.

0000

"You," Arthur growls as soon as the firefighters are gone and he has stalked over to Ariadne's house.

Ariadne smiles innocently at him. "Would you like to come in? I have banana bread in the oven."

"You called 911," Arthur says accusingly.

"Well, of course," she says, "you're fire alarm was going off, I was worried! I hope the firefighters took care of it?"

"That is such bullshit," Arthur says, because he's all domestic now and "integrated into the neighborhood" so he _knows_ that, among all the housewives and mothers, the firefighters are known for being particularly sexy and manly. That lady down the street, Mrs. Nobles, calls the firefighters weekly because her cat is stuck in the tree or there is a big snake in her backyard or she's afraid her smoke detectors don't work – just to see those fine male specimens and their corresponding biceps and six-packs.

"Oh, come _on_ , I know you enjoyed the chance to ogle at them, just like any other self-respecting person interested in the male sex," Ariadne says, rolling her eyes and looking quite unconcerned.

"I was in a towel," he snarls.

Ariadne's eyes widen. "Oh my God, really, that's fantastic! Which ones came? Not that it matters, because everyone knows the firefighters are the most gorgeous beings to grace this planet."

"Um, Eames and Yusuf," Arthur says.

Ariadne sighs dreamily.

Arthur stares at her traitorously. "You didn't even come over," he says sulkily. "What was the use of calling the fire station if you didn't even talk to them?"

"Oh, I saw them through the window," she says breezily. "I'm set for the week, now… maybe next week we can take a walk by the station with Otis when they're washing the fire trucks."

Arthur scowls, and in perfect unison the buzzer to the stove goes off in Ariadne's kitchen.

"Stop pouting and come in," Ariadne says. "You love banana bread."

Arthur doesn't stop pouting, but he does have a few slices of banana bread before he goes to pick James up from school.

0000

All Arthur really wants to do is forget the entire incident, but unfortunately a couple of days later he runs into Eames at the grocery store by the kids' school, Governor's. It's the store he usually avoids going to, because it's so painfully overpriced (and he always runs into the mothers of James and Phillipa's classmates, which is awkward).

"Arthur, fancy meeting you here," Eames says, sounding positively delighted.

"Eames," Arthur acknowledges.

He half hopes that he can just keep pushing his carriage along, but Eames stops his carriage, turns to face Arthur, and asks casually, "How have you been doing? No more fire alarm troubles, I hope?"

"Well, if there were any I'm sure you would have heard about them," Arthur points out.

Eames is not in his uniform today, instead he's wearing an Oxford shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows and _glasses_ and damn if that doesn't make him want Eames to push him up against the nearest shelf and utterly ravish him.

"True point, that," Eames concedes. Arthur is expecting a couple more minutes of awkward small-talk that will either merge into flirting or a real conversation. Instead Eames pauses, leans forward slightly, and stares intently at Arthur. The he asks, "You want to go out for coffee, or something?"

Arthur can't even consider if he wants to go or not. "I'm sorry, I can't, I have an appointment."

"Alright," Eames says, and he's trying hard to play it off as no big deal. Arthur wants to assure him that really, he can't just cancel on Phillipa and James' therapist, but that would just complicate things.

Eames recovers remarkably well, anyways, and his parting farewell is, "We'll go out for that coffee eventually, don't despair, darling."

Arthur isn't sure how he feels about that.

0000

The next time Ariadne calls 911, it's because the fire alarms in _her_ house are going off.

He doesn't hear the fire alarm because he's off bringing Phillipa to soccer practice. Arthur does, however, see the fire trucks parked out on the road as he pulls back up to the house. He stares for a long moment as he drives slowly past.

His first thought is _Karma's a bitch_.

His second thought is _Fuck, I left James with Ariadne and Oti_ s.

Arthur barely gets his car into the driveway and the keys out of the ignition before he's running across the grass towards the house, where all he sees is several people congregated by the back of one of the fire trucks.

"James, Ariadne!" he calls out, trying to keep his voice as controlled and un-panicked as possible given the circumstances.

Pushing his way between the legs of a crowd of firemen, James runs over to Arthur, pushing a breathing mask off his face with one hand as the other hand half-drags, half-carries Otis with him.

"Whoa, whoa," Arthur says, running to meet James and crouching down in front of him. "Be careful, poor Otis doesn't like to be dragged like that." He helps James maneuver the dog so that he's positioned more comfortably in James' arms. Only then does Arthur tenderly run a hand through James' hair and ask, "What happened? Are you okay?"

James nods and mumbles into Otis's fur, "The oven was on fire, and there was lots of smoke and I didn't know what to do."

Arthur, inexplicably, feels his eyes pricking with tears. "You're okay," he repeats to himself. "Where is Ariadne?"

Right on cue Ariadne approaches with Eames on one side and Yusuf on the other. Her eyes are puffy and still leaking tears. "Oh, God, Arthur I'm so sorry, I was just baking some muffins, I don't even know what happened, and James and Otis were just sitting on the floor playing…"

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry about it. You're all okay?"

Ariadne sniffles and nods. "Thank God Alice is in Florida for the week."

"How's the damage?" he asks, squinting up at the three of them. James seems to be doing fine, clutching on to the fourteen-pound pug. Most kids have a blankie or a favorite stuffed animal – of course James would have a dog instead. And the neighbor's dog, no less.

"Not bad at all – smoke on the ceiling and the cabinets are slightly scorched, but it really was minor," Eames assures him.

"Hello, Mr. Eames," Arthur says with a sigh, standing up. "Yusuf."

"Darling, we must stop meeting like this," Eames says with a small, playful, completely un-sexual smile.

Arthur tentatively smiles back, disappointment making his stomach clench because obviously Eames' little flirtations are over. There's nothing appealing about Arthur now, with his frazzled appearance and James tugging at his pant leg. Then Arthur feels bad, because fuck Eames if that's how it is. Phillipa and James are the best things that have happened to Arthur.

He turns his attention back to James, who says, "I'm hungry."

"Alright, let's get you some lunch," Arthur says. He glances at Ariadne and offers, "Would you like to come over?"

She hesitates, but Yusuf says, "Go over, we'll clear everything out and check the house to make sure it's safe." He glances at Arthur and says, "We'll just come over and let you know when we're done."

"Thank you." He takes Ariadne's arm. "C'mon, I may not have the baking prowess you have, but I make decent grilled cheese."

She giggles. "Oh, Arthur, we'll make a housewife out of you yet."

0000

Arthur has just gotten Ariadne and James settled in the kitchen with grilled cheese and lemonade and slices of watermelon – Christ, he really is turning domestic – when the doorbell rings.

"House is all clear, darling," Eames says when Arthur opens the door. He and Yusuf are there, both in their black uniforms rather than their firefighting gear.

"Okay, great thanks," Arthur says. "Er, I have lemonade and watermelon, if you like?"

The look Eames gives him makes it clear he'd much rather pour the lemonade all over Arthur's stomach and lick it up slowly, and it makes Arthur shiver. Arthur tells himself that he's affected because he thought Eames was done with him and was surprised. That's all.

"That sounds great," Yusuf says.

Ariadne seems happy to see the two firefighters, and James doesn't look unhappy, so Arthur counts the little lunch as a success. James plays with Otis quietly, Ariadne talks animatedly with Yusuf and Eames, and Arthur sits quietly, trying to ignore the heated looks Eames sends him that make his dick twitch. A couple of times Ariadne catches Eames' subtle innuendo, and Arthur knows he'll be hearing from her later.

Mrs. Lombardi knocks on the door while everyone is still in the kitchen, dropping off Phillipa from soccer practice.

"Hey, Pip, how was practice?" Arthur asks, mentally sighing as he sees her mud-splattered clothes and cleats with clumps of grass stuck in them. The last two days were filled with rain, and Phillipa blithely brought the remnants of it into the front hallway.

"Fine," she says with a shrug, kicking off her cleats. "Who's that?"

Arthur turns to find that Eames has followed him out into the hallway.

"Mr. Eames?" Mrs. Lombardi asks with a frown.

"Oh, hullo," Eames says, looking surprised. He rubs the back of his neck, looking unusually self-conscious.

"You two know each other?" Arthur asks, frowning.

"Mr. Eames is one of the teachers at Governor's," Mrs. Lombardi says with disapproval evident in her voice, like Arthur should know these things. "He teaches history in the Upper School."

"I taught Nicole last year, and Stephen's in one of my classes this year," Eames confirms, naming the two eldest Lombardi students.

"So you're more than just a firefighter coming to save the day, huh?" Arthur says, attempting levity.

Eames seems to relax slightly at Arthur's reaction. He smiles and teases, "Yes, I also teach the leaders of tomorrow." Then he turns to Phillipa and says, "Do you go to Governor's?"

She nods. "I'm in the Lower School. I'm Phillipa."

"I'm Eames. Maybe I'll get to teach you someday," Eames says, and she smiles.

Arthur glances at Mrs. Lombardi, who is observing the conversation with a hawk's gaze, and says, "Thanks for the help, I appreciate it."

"No problem, I'll see you at the game on Saturday," she says, and smiles sickeningly at Eames. "Lovely to see you again, I'll have to tell Nicole and Stephen that I saw you."

"Tell them I say hi," Eames says, and she finally leaves. As soon as Arthur shuts the door he adds, "Yusuf and I have to get going, but thanks so much for the lemonade and watermelon."

Arthur stares at him, feeling stupid. "I didn't know you were a teacher."

"Yeah, I'm really just a volunteer firefighter. Always wanted to be one when I was a kid, you know? So I did the training and all that while I was studying to be a teacher." He seems uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, a complete one-eighty from how Arthur thought he was.

Arthur nods and is saved from speaking by Yusuf's entrance into the hallway. They say stilted goodbyes and thank yous, Eames gives Arthur a very obvious wink, and Arthur is left alone in the hallway with his thoughts.

The thing is, Arthur has gotten to feeling old, what with being retired and looking after Phillipa and James. He hasn't gotten laid in months and most of the time he doesn't even bother wearing his bespoke tailored suits that used to be his daily attire. He feels out-of-sorts and disconnected from everything, and he's always painfully worried about everything.

Eames, though, Eames makes Arthur feel wanted and sexy and so fucking turned on it's frankly ridiculous. That doesn't stop Arthur from jacking himself off covertly more than once in the middle of the day when he's in the house alone, thinking of Eames' tattoos and thick thighs and stubble.

He doesn't see Eames for two weeks, so eventually that longing warmth that pools in his stomach whenever he thinks about the man fades.

0000

According to Alice, she and Marie are at Bingo when Marie starts having chest pains. Fearing a heart attack, they call 911 and have her brought to the hospital. Arthur's at the mall with the kids at the time, shopping for new clothes. The moment he hears he bundles them into the car and speeds over to the hospital.

He may or may not change into one of the new sweaters he just bought before going in, just in case.

Sure enough, Eames is standing in the waiting area. Phillipa waves at him, saying loudly, "Look, there's Eames!"

"Marie is in that room right there," Eames says, forsaking formalities. "I thought I'd stay to make sure she wasn't alone."

"Thank you," Arthur says. "I just need to…"

"Why don't James and Phillipa stay with me?" Eames suggests.

Arthur nods and walks into the room.

A half hour is spent talking with Marie and the doctors, trying to contact Dom, and filling out paperwork. By the time Arthur returns to the waiting room, Eames is sitting in one of the chairs with Phillipa and James sitting across from him, speaking intently. Jamie and Pippa are leaning in and nodding seriously. It's oddly endearing and worrisome at the same time. The moment is broken when they all see Arthur approaching.

"Is Nana okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. She's just resting now," Arthur says, sitting next to Eames and giving him a thankful smile that Eames returns easily.

"Why isn't Daddy here?" Phillipa asks. "Where's Daddy?"

"Daddy's coming," Arthur says distractedly, checking his phone. "Daddy's at work right now, but he's going to leave as soon as he can." _Or as soon as he picks up his fucking phone,_ he silently adds.

"I have to go," Eames says abruptly, standing up and halting the kids' onslaught. His easy demeanor is gone, replaced by a blank and professional persona. Arthur has seen a brazen, lustful Eames and a loving, genuinely caring Eames, but he's never seen this new side of him.

"You're leaving?" Phillipa asks, attention diverted. Disappointment laces her tone.

Arthur stares at him for a long moment, wishing he wasn't so surprised.

Eames shifts uncomfortably, hands stuffed into his pockets, but he just as quickly yanks them back out and smoothes his uncertainty over. _I know maybe this isn't what you signed up for…_ Arthur wants to say, but he has some pride left so he doesn't.

"Okay," Arthur says, and he doesn't look away even after Eames breaks eye contact and mumbles, "See you."

Arthur watches him leave, a pang in his chest. Then he apathetically tucks the pain away and turns his attention back to Phillipa and James, saying, "Okay, now, I've called Ariadne and she's going to pick you up and take you back home so you two can finish your homework and get to bed. We just need to wait until she comes, okay?"

"Is Nana sick?" James asks.

"She just had an accident, like the time Phillipa fell and broke her arm, remember? It hurt, but she felt better soon. Nana already feels better, the doctors just want to let her rest before she comes home," Arthur explains as best he can. He feels awkward and fumbling – he doesn't even know if he's doing this right. He needs someone to tell him how to do this, but he's all alone.

Ariadne comes soon enough, bustling and happy and cheering the kids' spirits. "Okay Pip, Jamie, time to head home. Arthur will be coming soon." She looks up at him and asks, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course, thank you," Arthur says. "I'll be home before bedtime, okay?"

Phillipa and James nod.

"I'm just going to check on Marie," he says, then looks at Ariadne and adds sincerely, "Thank you so much."

"Honestly, Arthur, you don't need to thank me," Ariadne says. She smiles at him tenderly. "You need someone to rely on, right?"

Arthur thinks of Eames and feels so humiliated and worthless. "Yeah, I guess so."

He leaves before Ariadne can ask what's wrong.

"Who was that nice young man that just left?" Marie asks as soon as Arthur has the door to her room shut behind him.

"He's no one," Arthur says. "Just one of the firefighters."

Marie doesn't seem convinced, but she changes the subject anyways. "You should go get the kids home, they need their sleep. I'll be alright here."

"Don't worry about that, Ariadne came to bring them home, I just need to be back to tuck them in," Arthur explains.

"Go home," Marie tells him firmly. "They need you more than I do."

"Are you sure? I don't want to…"

"Don't be ridiculous, I owe you enough as it is. Dom does, too, even though maybe he hasn't realized it yet."

Arthur shifts his weight uncertainly. "Okay, I'll come over as soon as I drop the kids off at school. Good night."

"Sweet dreams," Marie says as Arthur gently shuts the door.

On his way out to the car, Arthur tries to call Dom again, and he, miraculously, answers.

"What is it?" Dom asks, and he is speaking coherently, which is good.

"Marie had a minor heart attack and is in the hospital, your children are asking for you, and I can take care of your problems for now, but eventually it's not going to work anymore," Arthur says. "Pull yourself together."

"Oh, I didn't… should I, I go to the hospital, or something?" Dom sounds disoriented, and it just serves to fuel Arthur's anger.

"I'm leaving the hospital and coming back after I drop the kids off at school. If you care enough to show up, then fine," Arthur snaps, and hangs up. It's a good thing that it's a half-hour ride back to the house, because he needs to calm down.

0000

The next morning, Dom is waiting at the entrance to the hospital as Arthur approaches, a bag with a change of clothes for Marie swung over his shoulder.

"Hey," Dom says.

"I didn't think you'd show up," Arthur says coolly. "I see you managed to stay out of jail so far."

"I'm sorry I didn't answer my phone," Dom says. "It was an accident, I didn't mean…"

Arthur's phone starts to vibrate. "I have to take this."

"Can we just talk?"

"No, Dom, we can't, because right now I have to bring Marie home, and tomorrow Phillipa has her soccer game. I really don't have any time for you." Arthur flips open his phone and says into it, "You're ready? I'll be right there."

Dom watches Arthur talking on the phone for a few more minutes before walking away. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, but continues the phone conversation.

When he goes up to Marie's room, she can tell what's wrong.

"Arthur, what is it?"

He shakes his head. "It's nothing."

Marie is silent for a moment before admitting, "Ariadne told me about you and that firefighter. Did something happen?"

"I guess he's just not interested anymore," Arthur says, feigning nonchalance. "I mean, two kids probably weren't what he signed up for. It's fine, I was expecting it." He hands her the bag. "I'll let you change."

Arthur leaves before Marie can say anything.

Marie comes home that day, and everything goes back to what their normal is. Dom successfully robs the Bank of America – God knows how he didn't get caught. He still doesn't come home, and last Arthur heard he was in Las Vegas. Arthur doesn't hear from Eames again – doesn't see him at Governor's or the grocery store or anywhere else. Ariadne asks about him twice, but eventually lets it go. After a few weeks, Arthur resigns himself to the fact that Eames just isn't interested in a guy with two kids he's responsible for.

0000

Arthur wakes up to a piercing, shrill sound. A distant, sleepy part of his mind notes that it's still dark out and that the sound is actually the fire alarm.

He jumps up, grabs his cell phone laying innocently on the nightstand, and runs out of the room in his worn, gray sweatpants.

"Arthur? Arthur?" Phillipa is calling in a wavering voice.

"Here, here," Arthur says, running to James' room and saying, "Jamie, c'mon, out here. Marie?"

"What is that? Is there a fire?" Marie asks in alarm, coming out of her room.

Arthur peers down the stairwell – there is smoke, and there's a man's voice, swearing. That's all the incentive Arthur needs to call 911. As he holds the phone to his ear, he says to Marie, "Go outside with the kids, through the kitchen door."

No one argues, even though Marie can barely walk and Phillipa is crying. James reluctantly lets go of Arthur's hand as he is ushered down the stairs. Arthur runs back to his room.

"This is 911, please state your emergency."

"My house is on fire and there is an intruder," Arthur says, making a beeline for the safe he keeps on the lower level of the nightstand. Hastily punching in the code and pressing his thumb onto the print identification pad, he opens the safe and pulls out a handgun. He hates the idea of having a gun in a house with children, but after years living on the edge he can't not have one. Right now he's thankful for that. Running down the stairs, Arthur adds, "The address is 119 Maple Lane."

He hangs up and, gun out, runs towards the fire.

Arthur isn't new to these situations, so he doesn't fire shots as soon as he sees the figure in the living room, silhouetted by the fire that appears to be licking away at the table and love seat. As it turns out, the person turns around and it's Dom.

"What the fuck?" Arthur fairly shouts.

Dom turns, eyes heavy and words slurring as he says, "Arthur, I didn't mean to, it just fell – "

"Fuck, just get –" Arthur snarls, grabbing onto Dom's arm and dragging him towards the kitchen, swiftly putting the safety back on his gun and slipping it into the waistband of his sweatpants. "Are you alone?"

Dom stares at him blankly.

"Are. You. Alone?"

He nods. Arthur relaxes fractionally and says, "C'mon, hurry up."

They burst out the back door and almost fall right into Marie and the children.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Daddy showed up," Arthur bites out, not letting go of Dom's upper arm. "Everyone to the front lawn, now."

Marie is watching him worriedly, but he ignores her.

By the time they get to the front lawn, a fire truck has showed up, sirens blaring, and the lights are on in a couple houses across the street. Eames is the first person out of the vehicle. As the other firefighters swarm towards the house with hoses, needlessly breaking down the front door, Eames approaches Arthur and asks urgently, "You alright, darling?"

"Yeah, everyone's out and the fire's just in the living room," he says vaguely. It's like an out-of-body experience. Two police cars and another fire truck pull up. Ariadne comes rushing out of her house, leaving the door wide open. Otis follows her out and rushes towards James. _I should really get James a dog of his own_ , Arthur thinks.

Eames is staring at Arthur's crotch, which he finds rather annoying until Arthur realizes that there is a gun tucked into them, and the sweats are barely covering him. Pulling up the sweatpants and handing the gun over, Arthur says, "I have a license, really, I just thought there was an intruder."

"Yeah, him?" Eames asks, his sharp gaze now on Dom, who looks about ready to pass out.

"Don't get too fired up," Arthur says, watching as Eames grabs Dom, shoves him against the back of the fire truck, and starts patting him down. "It's his house. His kids."

Right, the kids. Arthur glances around just in time to catch a sobbing Phillipa running towards him. James is sitting on the ground, clutching Otis, watching with rapt attention as Eames finishes his search of Dom. He steps back and lets Dom sit on the back edge of the fire truck, wobbling noticeably.

"Where's Mommy?" Phillipa sniffles. "I want Mommy."

It's a horrible replay of the disaster in the hospital, except now Dom is there, drunk and heavy-lidded, sitting on the back of a fire engine and mumbling, "Come here, Pippa, it's going to be okay."

Phillipa doesn't even hear him, she's too busy trying to choke back sobs. Arthur tries to pry her away from his naked and cold chest, but she just wraps her arms around him harder. Arthur stares down at her and feels like crying himself. Instead, he sits down on the ground, ignoring Dom steadfastly as he arranges Phillipa next to him and looks her straight in the eye.

"Mommy's not here, Pippa, and I know Daddy's acting weird right now and you're very scared, but it's all going to be better soon, okay?"

Marie approaches Dom in a wave of fury and starts shouting at him about everything – killing her daughter, abandoning his children… Phillipa starts to cry even harder. "Please don't leave, Arthur, please don't leave."

"Shh, shh, I'm not," Arthur says soothingly. He reaches out the hand that isn't wrapped around her and takes her smaller hand in his. "I'm not going to leave you, I promise."

James sidles up closer to Arthur, Otis obediently following. They sit there like that for a few minutes, oblivious of everything else, until Yusuf approaches and says, "The fire's out, it's okay. We kept it contained in the living room." He pauses meaningfully.

Arthur pries himself away from a more subdued Phillipa, stands up, and approaches Yusuf and Eames. "What is it?"

"There's a lighter that we think is the cause."

Maries jaw goes slack. Arthur presses his lips into a tight line and then asks, "Marie, can you take the kids to Ariadne's and see if maybe they could sleep on the couch, or something?"

She nods, obeying without question. As soon as the kids are gone, Arthur turns to look at Dom, anger flaring within him. "So, what, you come inside and just can't resist having a smoke? And _set the house on fire_?"

"I didn't mean –"

"Fuck that," Arthur snarls. "You're drunk and probably on something else, too, in front of your _kids_. You think you can keep doing this? You think I'll just let you keep doing this? I have done everything for you, more than a best friend should – I let you run wild when your wife died, dropped my job to take care of your kids and mother-in-law… Well, I'm done. You're going to rehab, or you're not seeing your kids again."

"You can't…" Dom tries.

"I have more friends than you do, Dom. Don't test me," Arthur says steadily. He backs away and immediately feels a light touch on his arm. He turns, and Eames wordlessly holds out a sweatshirt.

"You're freezing, darling, put it on," he says quietly. Arthur obeys. He's never felt more like a battered wife in his life. Eames looks at Yusuf, gestures at Dom, and continues, "I think he should be taken to the station, if you could get one of the cops to do something. He's drunk, at the very least , and his carelessness with a lighter started the fire, I'm willing to bet."

Yusuf looks at Arthur, but he doesn't say anything, just wraps his arms around himself and wishes he had shoes on. He's just starting to realize how cold he is. Eames follows Arthur gaze down to his bare feet and says, "Come on, let's get you into something proper, yeah?"

Arthur lets Eames lead him towards the house and tries to ignore that Dom is probably being arrested behind him.

"I'm sorry," Arthur says numbly, watching as Eames opens their front hall closet and pulls out Arthur's favorite pair of Sperrys.

"It's alright, darling," Eames murmurs, watching Arthur step into the Sperrys. Maybe Arthur should change into actual clothes, but he doesn't move and neither does Eames.

Arthur laughs bitterly. "I thought you lost interest when you saw Jamie and Phillipa?"

Eames is quiet for a moment, looking ashamed, before admitting quietly, "I thought you were married, in the hospital."

He stares at Eames, mouth dry. He doesn't know what to say, so he just confirms, "I'm not."

"You're not married, but you live with another man and his kids?" Eames asks with a raised eyebrow.

"It's temporary," Arthur says. "Probably. His wife just died, and as you could probably tell from the lighter-at-four-in-the-morning incident, he's not exactly fit to be a father at the moment."

"Oh," Eames says, and he largely fails at hiding his smile.

"You should really be ashamed that you're happy about that."

"You misread me," Eames says, "I'm just happy you're not taken."

And there's nothing he can say to that, really.

"Is there any chance you're free for coffee?" Eames continues.

Arthur hesitates. Phillipa and James will be asleep for a couple more hours, and Marie can take care of them if they do wake up. There's no reason for him to say no.

"I don't think anywhere will be open," he tries.

"Starbucks opens at six," Eames says, "and you should probably go and check the kids are alright, yeah?" Arthur nods. "By the time we get there, it will be open."

Arthur slips his cold hand into Eames' warm one and smiles.


End file.
